


Some Nights

by sheronthekitty



Series: Adventures of the Freak Fam [1]
Category: Freak Fam - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Self-Doubt, Self-Hatred, Vinny is a saint, he's an emotional wreck, injuries, last two only alluded to, they're criminals baybee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 20:09:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19471270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheronthekitty/pseuds/sheronthekitty
Summary: "The fuck happened to you?"After a close call that leaves Shirk beaten, battered, and close to tipping over the edge, its up to Vinny to bring him back.





	Some Nights

**Author's Note:**

> idk if more than the 3 people I talk to are reading this, but if you are, uh, hi!  
> this is really fucking angsty and on-par with most of what I write, lmao.  
> uh, read the tags and heed my warnings:  
> this is really heavy with multiple instances of graphic panic attacks, please be warned.

**━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━**  
_There are some nights I hold to every note I ever wrote_  
_Some nights I say: "Fuck it all!" Stare at the calendar_  
_Waiting for catastrophes, imagining they'd scare me_  
_Into changing whatever it is I am changing into_

_And you have every right to be scared..._  
**━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ __  
**

"Has anyone seen Shirk lately," Vinny asks the room as they enter, eyes scanning each and every face but not coming across the one they so desperately seek.

"Wasn't he out on a mission the past couple of days?" Someone pipes up. 

"I heard he got back last night," someone else says casually. "Maybe he's still, y'know, winding down or something?"

Vinny nods, thanking them for the information—though it's nothing they haven't heard already—and turns, leaving the room. Shirk had gotten back last night, if the bag of bloody cash, files, and usb stick in the main room said anything about it. But his apartment in the converted mall was empty when they had checked—broken in more like—earlier. 

Whenever Shirk went silent never ended up good, with him ending up being hurt or worse. So sue them for being worried. They were _dating_ him, for fucks sake. It was kind of disheartening that he still barely relied on their help, let alone the other two's, but Vinny also knows that he has a whole truck load of issues he tries not to dwell on or talk about, for one reason or another.

They aren't the only one looking, though. Ace is scouring the city while Disaster is checking the docks and beaches, so Vinny's left with the Haven and anywhere else they can think of. There _is_ one more place that hasn't been checked yet, however. Shirk's _apartment_ , his personal apartment, not the one in the mall but the one he goes to when he wants to be alone or when he has jobs on the other side of the city.

  
Vinny heads there. They walk through the front doors of the Haven and out onto the street in long, hurried strides, forgoing a car even though it'd probably be quicker. They make it to the other side of the city in record time, taking back alleys and weaving, dodging, and ducking through the crowds that clogged up the sidewalks.  
  
They take the stairs two at a time, making it to the third floor in a matter of minutes, and don't bother knocking. Disaster has the keys, so they pull out the lock-picking set Ace had gotten them a while back—when you clean up illegal messes for a living you gotta be able to break into places, and their old set had broken irreparably—and makes quick work of the door, unlocking it and stepping in.  
  
They shut it quietly behind them and are just about to call out when they hear a something hit the floor, a crash, and Shirk yell out, "Fuck!" Vinny makes their way down the hall towards the bathroom, the door of which is cracked, light spilling out into the hallway in a long sliver that coats the opposite wall and wooden floor. Vinny looks in to see Shirk picking up something off the floor, movements stiff and face pinched in pain. Vinny must bump the door, because it swings open, causing Shirk to jump, grabbing a knife that's perched on the edge of the sink and whirling on his heel in one fluid movement. 

"It's me," Vinny cautions, hands raised, and Shirk visibly deflates, knife clattering to the ground. 

"Fuckin' Christ," Shirk mumbles, "You scared the shit outta me."

Vinny doesn't answer, face scrunched in worry. The left side of Shirk's face is coated in blood—both dried and fresh, dripping down his chin steadily, and his eye is shut underneath it—with a sizable gash just above his eyebrow. "The fuck happened to you?"

Shirk huffs and turns back to doing what he was doing before: trying to stitch the wound closed. Vinny notices his palms and fingers are torn to shreds as well and their frown deepens. "Got into some trouble," Shirk barely explains, and Vinny moves forward, putting their hand over Shirk's. 

They don't miss the way he flinches away from the touch. They also don't miss the way his hands are shaking worse than their hands usually do. _What the hell happened?_ "Lemme help you, 'kay, buddy?"

"'M fine," Shirk says, shifting away from Vinny slightly. "I got this."

"Except you're not. With your hands lookin' like that, there's no way you're gonna be able to fix yourself. Let me at least stitch you up. It won't be perfect but it'll be a helluva lot better than bleedin' out, right?"

Shirk looks like he's about to argue, but he looks away and relents, limping over to the closed toilet and gingerly sitting down—all while putting almost no weight on his right leg, and Vinny sees why: a length of barbed wire curls around his calf, digging into the flesh and slicing it apart. The wounds look extremely similar to those on his hands–Oh. 

Vinny's piecing things together slowly. They would have to check for any further injuries, but the wound on Shirk's head comes first. They wet a rag with warm water and begin to wipe away the blood in gentle strokes, noting how Shirk wasn't looking at them and instead staring at the wall behind their head almost absently. 

Once the blood is properly cleaned away, they gather up the sutures and needle, say, "This may sting a bit," and get to work. They pull the skin back together slowly, Shirk not twitching once during the process. Once they're done, after what felt like hours but was probably just minutes, they set the needle aside and put their hand on Shirk's shoulder and startling him out of his thoughts. 

"So, I noticed your leg, and your hands are pretty fucked up, are there any other injures I need to know about?"

Shirk frowns at him and takes too long to reply, obviously lying. "...No. There aren't."

"And that's a lie if I've ever heard one." Vinny places their hands on their hips, channeling Disaster's 'No-Bullshit-Taken' attitude and giving Shirk a Look. "Sorry, pal, but we can't have ya dyin' on us."

"Oh, fuck off Vinny," Shirk spits, standing and moving away from Vinny. "I'm fine. You fixed my head, I can deal with the rest, alright?"

"Sorry for being worried about my boyfriend who went _dark_ for three days. I'm not letting you deal with this alone, Shirk. If you don't tell _me_ what's hurt I'll have to call Disaster who'll call a doc, and do you _really_ want that?" It feels like shit threatening Shirk like this, but really, what can a guy do when their boyfriend is being a stubborn ass? "So either take your jacket off and show me or I'll call in the big guns."

Shirk's lip twitches, and he balls his fists into his jacket. Vinny thinks for a moment he's going to refuse, but he heaves out a harsh sigh and rips the clothing over his head, wincing at the movement, and drops it onto the ground at his feet. "There, happy?" He growls, fists clenched at his side. 

"Yes."

There's cloth wrapped around his bicep, already soaked through with blood, and his undershirt is torn in a neat cut—which when lifted reveals a short, but deep knife wound on Shirk's side. Other than that, the rest of the injuries are small scrapes and bruises, the worst of which blossom up his back and side in a mottled blue/black/red pattern. "The fuck happened to you?" Vinny asks again. They don't mention the ribs that seem to be poking out a little too much. 

"Fell off a fence," Shirk says, just as unhelpful as before. Vinny puts their hand on his back and can feel him shaking worse than a leaf in a storm. 

"Are you alright?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You're shaking."

He doesn't answer. He allows Vinny to patch him up the rest of the way—it was interesting getting the barbed wire off, with a lot of swearing and Shirk finally just grabbing it and ripping it off, prompting Vinny to yell at him—before he moves to leave the bathroom. Vinny blocks the doorway.

"Please tell me what happened." They reach out a hand but let it fall short when Shirk flinches backwards at the movement. "What's _wrong?_ " 

"It's nothing," Shirk sighs, brushing past Vinny and out into the hall. 

"Holding everything in doesn't help, you know," they tell him, grabbing Shirk's arm and stopping him. "I thought you were doing better with talking to us? Why won't you _talk_ to me?"

Shirk stiffens and Vinny worries that they might've overstepped, and they prepare for him to yell but they're taken off guard when all Shirk says is "don't–" in a choked voice. 

"Shirk?" They ask, moving forward and putting their hand on his arm. "What's wrong?"

"You say I'm doing better," he says, shoulders hunched and body shuddering, "but all it takes to set me off is seeing _one_ person and it just–" He pauses, unsure of how to word things, and Vinny patiently waits for him to speak. "I don't understand–I can't–I don't–

"I almost got–They almost saw me."

"Who?"

Instead of answering, Shirk just sighs, bandaged hands coming up to rub at his face, and he mutters, "I'm tired."

Taking the change of subject in stride and knowing not to push less things get worse, Vinny reaches up and takes Shirk's hands in their own. "Let's lay down, alright buddy?" Shirk doesn't rey but allows Vinny to lead him to the bedroom and push him gently onto the bed. They turn to leave and can see Shirk crane his neck around, half-rising off the bed as if to follow. "I'll be back, just grabbing you some painkillers."

Shirk hesitates as if he's going to say something, but looks away and nods, sitting back down heavily onto the bed and letting his hands dangle between his legs. Vinny quickly leaves the room and enters the bathroom, rummaging through the first aid kit for the strong painkillers. They resist the urge to clean up, not wanting to leave Shirk alone while he was agitated and upset, and make their way to the kitchen and grab a glass of water before heading back to the bedroom.

Shirk's in the exact position they left him in, and staring at the wall, seemingly deep in thought. Vinny makes their way around the bed and crouches in front of Shirk, tapping him on the back of his hand. His green eyes slide down to meet Vinny's own and it takes him a moment to focus but he gives them a small smile and accepts the pills that are pressed into his palm. He swallows them dry and snorts when Vinny huffs, "That's not good, y'know."

Vinny places the glass onto the bedside table and Shirk lays down onto his side, back to staring at the wall. Vinny pulls out their phone and shoots Disaster a quick text, letting her know they're with Shirk and not to worry. They then climb into bed next to Shirk, who shifts back towards them slightly. 

"Can I hug you right now?" They ask, knowing that Shirk had been somewhat avoidant of touching and knowing it best to make sure beforehand. 

Shirk shakes his head and says quietly, "Not right now, sorry."

"It's alright Big Guy," Vinny reassures. Their eyes drift to Shirk's hair which is still pulled back and somewhat of a tangled mess. "Mind me playing with your hair?"

Shirk thinks about it for a moment before nodding, shifting his head so Vinny could reach jr better. Vinny takes the hairband out and lets the dyed crimson locks spill out over the pillow before they begin to run their fingers through it, taking gentle care to comb through any knots as painlessly as possible. Shirk's eyes slide shut in content, and Vinny swears if he could purr, Shirk would be.

This goes on for several minutes until the next thing Vinny knows, the room is darker and their face is pressed into the pillows. They must've fallen asleep, they guess, and rub their eyes. Turning to the other side of the bed, Vinny blinks, awake and heart beating when they see the bed is empty. They get out of the bed and check the time—almost three hours had passed since they fell asleep—before walking towards the front of the apartment. They pass the bathroom—which had been cleaned and straightened up—before entering the living room-slash-dining room-slash-kitchen. A quick glance shows the living room half is empty, so they head towards the kitchen, which is where they find Shirk, crouched on the floor, fists balled up against his head and breaths tearing from him like his chest was in a hydraulic press. 

"Hey, hey, hey, it's okay," Vinny tells him, crouching in front of him—and just now noticing the glass scattered across the floor. Their hands hover over Shirk's arms, wanting to help but not sure if their touch will just make him tip further over the edge. "Hey, buddy, it's me, you're okay."

Shirk's breathing doesn't even out, but he does open his eyes and look at Vinny, eyes glassy and unfocused. "Sorry–" he chokes out between breaths, hands pressing harder against his head. "Sorry, sorry, sorry–"

"Shhh, it's alright, I'm here. You're safe, it's okay." Vinny's heart slammed in their chest. Shirk has very few, but very intense triggers, and if something could set him off like this it must be something _bad_ , but until he calmed down, Vinny has no idea _what_ did this. "Can you follow my breathing?" A jerky nod and that's all Vinny needs. "Okay, follow my count. In-two-three-four, hold-two-three-four, out-two-three-four." 

They sit there and breath for what feels like forever, Shirk's breathing starting out halting and shaky but evening out and steadying as they focus on it. Once Shirk's breathing is under control—the shaking hasn't stopped, his hands are still balled up tightly, Vinny observes—Vinny sits back.

"Sorry," Shirk apologizes again, refusing to look at Vinny and missing their frown. 

"It's okay, it wasn't y–"

"But it's _not_ okay!" Shirk suddenly shouts, slamming his fists against the cabinets behind him and causing Vinny to jump at the sudden outburst. " _This_ isn't okay!" He gestures to the glass and them both sitting on the ground. " _I'm_ not fucking _okay_ !" His hands go back to his head, fists finally opening only to grab fistfulls of hair and pull. "I'm _not okay_ ," he repeats, voice breaking, and Vinny moves forward. 

Their question of "Can I touch you?" is drowned out by Shirk. 

"I'm fucking _broken_ , don't you see that? I'm not okay and I'll never be _okay_ . I think I am, I think I'm okay and happy but I see one–two people from my past and everything _crumbles_ because I'm just lying–to myself and to you, and Ace, and Disaster–"

"Stop that," Vinny tells him, firmly but not unkindly, capturing his face in their hands and turning him to look at them. "You're not broken, just as much as I'm not broken. It's taken me a long time to realize that, and I'll sure as hell make sure you do too."

Shirk stares openly at them, face a turmoil of emotion before it shutters over into anger, directed at himself. He lets out a bitter, self deprecating laugh, and bites out, "I hurt you, can't you _see_ that? I fucking almost _killed_ you and you _forgave_ me when I don't deserve it, I don't deserve _shit_ –"

"Now you stop that," Vinny says, raising their voice and using everything in their power not to shake Shirk. As it was his breathing was picking up again, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. "Look at me, please?"

Shirk does, and they slide their hands up to take his hands in theirs and gently pull them away from his hair before leaning in so they were merely inches apart. "None of this is your fault. No, please listen. We both were in the wrong crowd, I don't blame you, nor do I hate you. Trust me when I say you deserve the world."

Shirk jerks his head back so quickly and so violently that it cracks into the cabinet with a sharp _Thud_ , causing Vinny to wince, before he stands suddenly, to which Vinny follows suit. "N–you don't get it. I'm a horrible human, I was right up there with the best of the Beasts and you know what I did? I _killed my fucking dad_ to get away." He begins to pace the border between the kitchen and the living room in long strides, shoulders heaving and hands unsure of what to do, alternating between being clenched at his side and gripping his hair. "I killed and lied to get where I am, I murdered and destroyed innocent gangs and crews who were being taken advantage of because I have a vendetta. But I'm too much of a fucking _coward_ to attack them at their source. For _Christ's_ sake, I see Fabian and Arin working together and I froze. I almost got _got_ because I fucking froze and they saw me."

"Shirk–"

"I _froze_ and now I'm here freaked out of my fucking mind thinking they'll show up at any moment and kill me or worse, capture you guys–" and he chokes, doubles over, and covers his mouth with shaking hands. "it'd be all my fault," he whispers in a broken voice, and this thought is the last crack in the dam, causing it to burst. His shoulders heave and tears pour from his eyes, and he staggers as Vinny rushes forward, sinking to the floor, and just repeating, "it's all my fault," like a mantra. 

"Shhh, shhh, it's okay. Nothing's happened. We're all okay, _you're_ okay. Nothing is your fault." They rub soothing circles into his back, half wishing Disaster was here to help, she's so much better at this than they are, but something tells them that they might be the best suited at the moment. "I love you, we all love you. Nothing can change that, nothing you have done will change that."

"Shut up, you're wrong, I'm not worth loving," he sobs, trying to pull away from Vinny, but they just hold him tighter. "I'm not, it's my fault."

"Shirk, you're okay. Okay bud? You're alright. Nothing's happened, you've done nothing wrong. You're safe, I'm safe, Ace and Disaster are safe, okay?"

"But you're not! They'll get you and kill you and it'll be my fault," and Shirk's now coughing as well as gasping for air, clutching at his chest and shaking worse than an earthquake. "They'll kill–"

"Shhhh," Vinny soothes, despite their beating heart. _Oh_ , that's what's gotten him so riled up. Speaking about Fabian upsets him on the best of days, but seeing him work with Shirk's Ex, who may be even _more_ dangerous and unpredictable, it's no wonder he's tipped over the edge. "Shhh, I got you. It's okay."

"I–I can't–" Shirk chokes out, hands grabbing at his chest. Vinny shifts and moves in front of him, taking his face in their hands once again. "I can't br–breath."

"Follow me," they instruct, counting once again, but it seems Shirk's too far gone because he struggles to keep up, gasping and gasping like he's drowning. "You're hurting yourself, look at me." He's popped a couple of stitches on his forehead, causing blood to leak down his face in small rivulets, and Vinny really _doesn't like_ the sound of his breathing. "Focus on my voice. Breathe in-two-three-four," they take his hands and put them against their chest, so he can feel their breath as well as hear it, and they count until finally, _finally_ , the gasping stops, the choking ceases, and all that's left is Shirk hiccuping occasionally, tears still flowing from his eyes. 

"Sorry," he apologizes in a hoarse voice, wrapping his arms around himself protectively, almost like a hug and looking away. "I–"

"Come here," Vinny invites, opening their arms, and Shirk only hesitates for a heartbeat before collapsing into their arms and hugging back tightly, sobs wracking his body. 

"I'm sorry," he cries, muffled into Vinny's shoulder, "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"It's quite alright, Big Guy. It's alright ta cry sometimes, y'know." 

They sit there while Shirk eventually calms down enough to sit back and angrily scrub at his eyes, which are red and raw, tears still gathering. "'M tired," he mumbles, standing only to stagger and clutch at his head. "Oh, hm, 'm dizzy."

Vinny stands and grabs Shirk by the elbow, wrapping an arm around his waist. "When's the last time you ate anything?"

"I'unno, before the mission? I think I ate breakfast with you all before I left."

Vinny pauses and squints at Shirk, "dude, that was over three days ago. You should eat something."

Shirk shakes his head and begins to limp off to the bedroom. "Not hungry, I feel sick. I just wanna lay down."

Vinny doesn't fight it, but files away _Feed Shirk later!!!!_ in his brain. "We gotta restitch your forehead, buddy. Then we can lay down." They steer him into the bathroom and sit him on the closed toilet while they rifle through the bathroom cabinet, grabbing the first-aid kit and once again pulling out the sutures and a needle. They wipe away the blood and stitch the wound shut again, before placing wrapping a bandage around his head. Vinny puts everything away, leads Shirk to the bedroom, and allows him to shuffle to the bed and collapse onto it while they take Shirk's boots off and kick their own shoes off. 

They check their texts to see a handful from Disaster and a couple of missed calls. Knowing they had to get back to her, they go to leave the room but flinch at the sound of Shirk sitting bolt upright and feet hitting the ground. Vinny turns with a hand raised to stop Shirk, who looked slightly panicked at the thought of being left alone. 

"I gotta call Disaster, buddy," they explain, to which Shirk frowns. 

He glances away and chews at his lip before mumbling, "don't leave, please." He turns a pleading, exhausted look at them, probably unaware of the openness of his face, and Vinny sighs. 

"Alright, but you gotta be quiet, okay?"

"Mmhmm," he sighs, shoulders slumping in relief, and Vinny pads over to the bed and sits down, back against the backboard. Shirk settles down next to them and half curls up before he hisses and puts a hand on his side, muttering darkly, "everything fucking hurts."

"Yeah, well, that's what happens when you fall off a barbed-wire fence."

Shirk laughs slightly before coughing and hissing, "fuck don't make me laugh."

They lapse into silence, and Vinny dials up Disaster while Shirk flips over so he's facing away from Vinny but his back is pressed against Vinny's leg. 

" _Jesus Christ, do either of you know how to answer your phones,_ " Disaster exclaims instead of a greeting. 

"Sorry," Vinny sighs, rubbing their neck. "We had… some hiccups we had to work through."

" _What? Is Shirk okay?_ "

"He is now."

" _What happened?_ "

Vinny pauses and looks at Shirk, who nods his head to show Vinny can say what went down. "Well, he was pretty badly injured but we got that patched up. He had a couple of breakdowns that we worked through, and he's resting now."

" _Fuck, what were they about?_ "

"Mmm, he came across some unsavory people, and it spooked him," Vinny half-explains not wanting to say all Shirk's personal going-ons, that was up to him to do. "But everything's chill now."

" _Do you want us to come over?_ "

"Uh," they cover the speaker and quietly relay the message. Shirk shakes his head. "How about later?" He pauses but nods slightly, and Vinny turns back to the phone. "Not right now? But maybe later? In a couple of hours or so. Oh, and bring food."

" _Alright, Vin. Love you. And tell Shirk we love him, too."_

"Love you too, I will. Bye."

" _Goodbye!"_ With that she hangs up and Vinny puts their phone on the table. 

"She says she and Ace love you," they tell him while turned away. They feel the bed shift and turn back to Shirk with an eyebrow raised only to frown sadly and scootch over closer as they see his hands twisted over his mouth, shoulders shaking as tears silently bubble down his cheeks. "Oh, c'mere you big cat," they offer, and Shirk rolls over and buries his face into their chest. 

"You're all too good for me," he hiccups. Vinny is half waiting for another breakdown, but Shirk is too exhausted—only God knows if he's slept in the past three days—because it never comes. Instead the hiccups die down into nothing as Vinny strokes his hair, and he feels more that sees Shirk drop off into sleep, or something quite close to it. 

"Goodnight, pal," they tell him, pressing a kiss into his hair. "I love you."

**━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━**

_And you, why you wanna stay?_  
_Oh my God! Have you listened to me lately, lately?_  
_Lately, I've been fucking crazy_

**━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━**

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [I N S O M N I A](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19717612) by [sheronthekitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheronthekitty/pseuds/sheronthekitty)




End file.
